


of knives and guns

by aurumss



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, Drugs, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Namo-centric, Organized Crime, Smut, but the right amount, lots of plot i guess, not as dark as it sounds i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurumss/pseuds/aurumss
Summary: Momo learned how to kill a man at fifteen. She started getting paid for it at eighteen. Now she's twenty-two, and a whole lot has happened in between.





	of knives and guns

**Author's Note:**

> urm so originally i wanted to finish this before posting but i want to see if people like it before i even continue so here it is. it's almost 10k words but it still feels super fucking rushed for a first chapter.
> 
> i'm planning on making this three parts but i guess i'll see as i go along hehe. it's not as heavy as the tags suggest it's rly just the twice mafia au i've been looking for forever but haven't found. namo-centric but a lot more happens. like a lot.
> 
> enjoy~

The only sound that can be heard in the alley is the clicking of boot heels on the pavement, steps quick and sharp as the girl looks up to find the fourth floor window. It’s the only one with the light on, casting an artificial yellow glow on the deserted street below. The girl nears the fire escape, shaking the metal stairs for a second to check they’re stable. When they don’t come crashing down, she starts to climb.

The building is old and deteriorated, the apartments inside only half-finished. The windows she passes are all empty and plain concrete inside, occasional ratty furniture in some rooms, probably salvaged by squatters from dumpsters in an attempt to make them livable spaces. There’s no one in them now, though.

Once she reaches the fourth floor, the girl stops. She crouches down in front of the window to peer inside. It’s a living room, decorated far too well to be inside a building that was never finished in the first place. A man lays face up, snoring, on the long couch in the center of the room, the coffee table in front of him covered with left-over white powder and half-empty alcohol bottles. 

The girl leans against the window, slowly so as not to wake him up. She’s about to resort to her elbow to break the glass when the frame budges and it opens, a gust of cold air sweeping into the room.

She scoffs, “Can’t even lock the windows, idiot.”

Her boot makes no noise as it touches the floor inside the apartment, and she carefully steps in wholly before silently closing the window again. She takes careful steps as she nears the sleeping figure, avoiding crunching what look like glass shards from a broken bottle on the floor.

A cold smile forms on her face as she looks down at the man, his face contorted into a scowl even as he sleeps. Then she lifts one leg and straddles him by the hips, watches him stir for a second before raising her hand and landing a loud slap on his face.

“What the fu—” The man starts awake, tries to move until he realizes the girl over him renders him immobile. 

“Shh… be quiet…” She whispers, holding his wrists together tightly as his eyes focus on what is happening.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Someone your friend sent,” is all she gives for an answer.

“Is this some kind of joke? Get off me, whore,” He tries to move again, but the girl’s face is much more stern now and she holds him down even harder with a force that doesn’t match her frame.

“Two things,” she says, looking him straight in the eyes. “One, don’t call me that. Two, the only reason I woke you up is because your friend wanted me to give you a message before I do my job. So listen, asshole.”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about? If you don’t get off me right now I swear I’ll fucking ki—“

“You’ll what?” 

The man freezes at the cold feel of a knife blade on his neck. In his struggle he’d missed the girl reaching down to her boot to pull out the weapon, now held firmly against his flesh. His eyes widen at the realization of what’s about to happen.

“You fucking _whore_ —“ And he makes an attempt to move again, but the girl is quicker and presses down harder with the knife, breaking the surface of the skin. Blood trickles down from the cut into his shirt collar.

“I _said_ , don’t call me that. I have a name.”

“Yeah?” He does his best at seeming calm, but his voice betrays his feelings. “What’s your name, huh? Who sent you?”

“You don’t need to know that. All you need to know,” she leans down, nears her lips to his ear. “is he says, kindly, to _go fuck yourself._ ”

And then her knife is slicing across the front of his neck, sharp and smooth. The girl lifts herself quickly from the sofa to avoid the spray of blood, falls to the ground as the man reaches for his bleeding neck and gargled sounds come of out of his mouth.

A grimace takes over her face as she looks away from the gruesome scene to wipe the knife’s blade. The choking sounds stop as she places it back in its sheath inside her boot, and the man’s arm falls down, hanging limp from the sofa as his eyes stare expressionless at the ceiling. Dead.

The girl walks back toward the window, blood pooling under the sofa already. She speaks for the last time, with no one to hear her now.

“The name’s Momo, asshole.” And then she’s out in the cold again, down the fire escape and back into the dirty alley.

—

A bell rings as Nayeon steps through the doors of the Black Boot. The locale is grimy and dark, hidden in a little corner of the city, but its location means it’s mostly empty for a Friday night except for regulars.

Nayeon recognizes the bob of black hair sitting by the bar as soon as she walks in. She plops herself in the next stool, and orders her gin and tonic loud and clear, smirking as she notices her voice being recognized.

When the bartender leaves the glass, she starts talking.

“Something weird happened at work today,” she takes a sip. “I went to go do this assignment, crossed the whole city just to get there, huge pain in the ass. But as soon as I get there, I find out someone had taken care of it already.” A beat. “Crazy, huh?”

Momo looks up for the first time as she pushes a strand of black hair behind her ear.

“Crazy,” is all she says.

Nayeon narrows her eyes, “Wonder who it was. I was supposed to be the only one who knew the location, too.”

Momo just shrugs.

“I wonder too. Guess your assignment wasn’t very well-liked.”

“Hm. Yeah.”

It’s silent for a moment as Momo finishes her drink and pulls out some change to leave on the counter. She stands up and looks ready to leave, but then she turns to look at Nayeon.

“Walk with me?”

Nayeon pretends to think about it as she pays for her own drink, but then downs what’s left in the glass and muttering a “sure,” as she walks back out with Momo in tow.

The chill of winter is mostly gone in the April night, but Nayeon still wraps her arms around herself as they walk out of the bar. Momo begins walking down the street, pulling out a cigarette and putting in on her lips as she rummages around her jacket for a lighter. She stops when she sees Nayeon’s nose scrunched in disgust.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Momo just rolls her eyes and goes back to looking for her lighter before she speaks again.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a lighter I can borrow?”

Nayeon just stares at her before Momo sighs and puts her cigarette back in the box. They walk a few more moments in silence, Momo fidgeting with her jacket zipper, and Nayeon realizes Momo is not going to say anything unless she asks.

“How’d you hear about Chulsoo?”

“Who’s that?”

“Don’t play dumb. My assignment that I somehow was too late for even though I showed up an hour earlier than planned, remember?”

“Ah, yes. Bad luck, huh?”

Nayeon grabs Momo’s arm to stop her, who only gives her a smirk in return. Nayeon feels a twitch of annoyance creeping up on her.

“I’m serious. Who paid you?”

“Client confidentiality, Nayeon. Thought you knew that,” Momo says before removing her arm from Nayeon’s grip and walking down the street again. Nayeon clenches her fist in an exhale before catching back up with Momo.

“I just wanna know if it’s the same person,” she explains.

“What? You worried your client didn’t trust you’d get it done so they got me as insurance?”

“If anything, I was insurance for you. I got a later time, no?”

Momo gives her another shrug.

“What does it matter, Nayeon? It’s done and they won’t know it wasn’t you, you’ll still get your money.”

Nayeon gives an exasperated exhale, “God, you’re impossible. I just like to stay informed.”

She rubs her arms through the chill and looks at Momo, but it seems like she’s not going to say anything else about the matter.

They keep walking in silence, Momo with her hands in her jacket pockets and her stare down, Nayeon next to her keeping herself from asking about tonight again. She remembers the scene she’d found when she had walked through the living room window, the pool of blood under the couch where a very dead man lay, a deep cut across his neck. Nayeon had neared the couch as much as she could without messing with anything to confirm it was Chulsoo, and indeed it was, a paler version of the drug dealer she was supposed to take care of that night.

Nayeon glances back at Momo, now inspecting her nails in the dim glow of the streetlights, and wonders if she knew Nayeon had the same hit for tonight. Probably not, she reasons, but despite having known Momo for a little over a year now, most of the girl still remains a mystery to Nayeon. There’s always an ounce of doubt that comes with anything she learns about Momo. Even if she had answered Nayeon’s question nothing guaranteed she would be telling the truth.

Nayeon brings herself back from her thoughts when Momo stops at the corner of the block, and it’s only half a second before Nayeon knows where they are.

“This is me,” Momo says, looking up at her apartment building.

Nayeon nods, shivers a little in the chill.

“You wanna come up for a sec? You look cold.”

“Sure,” Nayeon says simply, following Momo inside and into the elevator. Momo presses the seventh floor button wordlessly, and Nayeon leans back against the wall, watching the numbers on the screen go up as the elevator car moves.

Neither of them say anything once they reach the floor, and despite the weird tension in the air they still remain quiet as they walk down the hallway and Momo reaches for her keys. It’s only when Momo opens the door and Nayeon follows that they finally make a sound, but really it’s more of a grunt on each side as Nayeon pushes Momo against the closing door, barely letting her hang the keys on the wall before she’s kissing her, Momo pulling her by the back of the neck to bring her closer.

“It’s been a while,” Nayeon manages between kisses as she reaches to remove Momo’s jacket.

“A _week_ ,” Momo says, tangling her fingers in Nayeon’s hair, pulling her face down so Nayeon can kiss her neck.

“Too long,” is all Nayeon says back, kissing her way down Momo’s neck all the way to her collarbone, where she reaches for Momo’s shirt before pulling it off.

Momo laughs as she brings Nayeon’s face back up to kiss her again, “You’re impatient, huh?”

“Yeah, I really wanna fuck you,” Nayeon says with a smirk, and Momo pauses for a second and looks almost comical, eyes wide as she stares at Nayeon before licking her lips.

“Fuck, come here,” she mutters, and pulls off Nayeon’s shirt too, moving her hands to the hem of Nayeon’s jeans trying to undo the zipper.

Nayeon feels her heart speed up as Momo’s fumbling pulls Nayeon forward, and as she sees Momo’s flushed cheeks and brows knitted in concentration Nayeon feels a rush of bravery and slots her knee in between Momo’s legs before bringing back up Momo’s face with her fingers to kiss her again. This time it’s slower and more focused, and Nayeon feels Momo tremble at the unexpected move.

“I was trying to—“ Momo starts against Nayeon’s lips, but she just gets shushed as Nayeon focuses on kissing her.

Nayeon grabs Momo’s hips and Momo gets it. She starts rutting against Nayeon’s thigh until she’s whimpering into the kisses, the four layers of clothing between them too much of a barrier as her movements grow desperate.

“Bedroom, please,” Momo starts, her breathing ragged against Nayeon’s ear. 

Nayeon complies, and starts walking backwards across the furniture she has memorized from all the times she’s been here, avoiding hitting anything even in the dark as she kisses Momo.

The bedroom door is closed, and Momo clumsily reaches behind Nayeon to turn the doorknob, spilling them both inside the dim room until they stumble their way onto the bed. Neither one attempts to turn the light on, instead opting for helping each other shimmy out of their pants until all that’s between them is their underwear.

“You’re so hot,” Nayeon says as Momo lays on top of her to kiss her neck, “Wore these for me?” she adds as she pulls the elastic of the black lace underwear Momo has on.

“You wish,” Momo says, and Nayeon feels her smirk against the skin on her throat.

Nayeon slides her hand under the hem to cup Momo’s ass, and after a groan Momo starts to move against Nayeon’s thigh again, her kisses on Nayeon’s neck turning lazier as she focuses on grinding her hips down and tightens her grip on the sheets next to her. 

“Feels good?” Nayeon asks as Momo’s moans grow louder, now completely foregoing kissing Nayeon as she speeds up against her thigh. Nayeon sees Momo nod quickly into her neck, her breath hurried on Nayeon’s skin.

“Sit up, I wanna see you,” Nayeon says, and Momo doesn’t complain as she lifts herself up and continues moving her hips. Nayeon marvels at the sight of Momo’s face, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed as she bites her bottom lip to keep herself from getting loud.

“I can feel how wet you are through your underwear, baby.” Momo half attempts to roll her eyes at Nayeon’s comment, but it’s obvious she likes it as she picks up the pace. “You’re gonna cum like this? All desperate against my thigh?”

A strangled noise escapes Momo’s throat.

“Come on, I know you can.”

Momo falls forward once more, leaning on her forearms as she frames Nayeon’s head on the bed. She’s not trying to keep quiet anymore, her moans spilling out as she chases her orgasm. Nayeon reaches behind Momo’s back for the clasp of her bra, slipping one hand under the cups to pinch Momo’s nipples. Nayeon gets the moan she was looking for, taking it as encouragement to continue. 

“Shit, yes, keep going,” Momo breathes out, speeding up one last time. Nayeon sees Momo’s eyes shut as she cums, a silent moan on her lips as she rides out her orgasm. Nayeon lifts her head to kiss Momo again, swallowing her last moans as she moves to take Momo’s bra off completely. 

Nayeon sits up, Momo repositioning herself keeping her lips glued to Nayeon’s. Nayeon sneaks a glance at her own thigh as they kiss, slick and shiny, and feels a curl of fire inside. She suddenly realizes how wet she is herself, and before Momo can think about it, Nayeon is flipping them over until she’s straddling Momo’s hips and looking at her from above. Momo’s hair spills out under her head, her lips kiss-red and her chest heaving as she looks back. 

“I wanna ride your face,” Nayeon says, moving to remove Momo’s ruined underwear, sliding the fabric down her legs until she drops it somewhere on the floor.

“Please,” Momo gasps out, nodding.

Nayeon just gives her a grin as she removes her own underwear, then reaching for her bra until they’re both completely naked and panting at each other. Nayeon reaches forward with her hand to touch Momo’s lips, lightly at first, before she’s pushing her index finger into her mouth. Momo takes it willingly, sucking in her cheeks without losing eye contact. 

“Jesus,” Nayeon whispers at the visual, and she pulls her finger out to bring her hands between her own legs, using two fingers to rub the spot she’s been needing for a while. The first touch is electric, sending shivers down her spine as her mouth falls open in an o. 

“You look so fucking good from here,” Momo says from below, and Nayeon takes the opportunity.

“I know,” she drawls.

Momo rolls her eyes, almost smiles at Nayeon’s response, and speaks again, “Thought you were gonna sit on my face?”

“Of course,” Nayeon grins and sits up on her knees, moving herself up Momo’s body. Momo looks like she’s been waiting for this moment forever, a glint in her eyes making her look eager and impatient. Nayeon lowers herself, slowly at first, until she feels Momo’s tongue dart out and lick, one long stripe, and Nayeon almost collapses down.

She grabs onto the headboard behind Momo’s head for leverage, and lets herself get loud as Momo keeps licking and sucking on her clit from below. Nayeon starts moving her hips at some point, craving more, more, _more_ , and Momo only complies, moving quickly and loudly between Nayeon’s legs.

“God, yes, just like that,” Nayeon gasps out, her whole body on fire.

Momo readjusts herself, and Nayeon almost screams when she feels Momo’s index finger circling her hole. It’s only two seconds before she goes in, her finger’s pace matching her tongue’s and Nayeon is _so_ close.

“Fuck, baby,” spills out from Nayeon, and she feels the vibrations as Momo moans into her. Nayeon dares a look behind her and sees Momo’s other hand between her legs, rubbing herself as her tongue moves restlessly against Nayeon.

The sight is overwhelming, Momo writhing underneath her and fucking Nayeon at the same time, and Nayeon feels her hips stutter as her belly tightens.

“Ah- Momo… _shit_ ,” Nayeon cums loudly as she falls forward against the headboard. She takes a second to breathe before she lifts her leg up and moves to the side, and is greeted by the view of Momo’s glistening lips and a grin on her face.

Nayeon doesn’t think twice and then she’s bending down to kiss her again, tasting herself on Momo’s mouth and groaning into the kiss. 

“You’re so good,” Nayeon mutters, “I saw you just now. So needy so soon?”

Momo just whimpers in assent, far too gone to retort with something clever.

“Please touch me, you haven’t yet,” Momo whines, her hips bucking as she looks for contact.

Momo’s words send fire though Nayeon, making her mutter a vague _come here_ before she’s making Momo sit up, repositioning them until Nayeon is leaning back against the headboard and Momo’s back is flush against her chest, her whole body nestled against Nayeon. 

Nayeon sucks on Momo’s pulse point from behind, letting one hand trail down Momo’s shoulder all the way to her nipples, teasing them in rhythm with Momo’s sighs. Momo lets her head fall back, brings one arm up around Nayeon’s head, tangling her fingers in her hair. 

“Come _on_ ,” The impatience is clear in Momo’s tone but still she doesn’t move to touch herself, instead keeping her free hand gripped around Nayeon’s thigh. 

Nayeon would go slow, tease her a little bit more, but she’s as desperate as Momo to make her cum, to see her undone once more. So she doesn’t hesitate before pushing Momo’s legs open with her free hand, sneaking her fingers up the inside of her thigh until she’s right where Momo wants her. 

Momo’s moans go in tandem with Nayeon’s hand rubbing circles over her clit, and it’s wet and messy but Nayeon loves it. Loves the way Momo’s hips buck when she increases the pressure, the way her fingers tighten around Nayeon’s thigh, stumbling quiet assents and requests for more under her breath. Nayeon can only indulge her. She presses harder and speeds up, her hand a blur as Momo’s sounds go up several decibels.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , Nayeon,” Momo manages in between, her gaze fixed on the way Nayeon’s hand continues its unrelenting pace.

Nayeon hears it more than sees it. Momo goes almost quiet, her face fixed in a silent moan, before she’s gasping out and moaning Nayeon’s name as she cums. Momo lifts her hips from the bed, pushes further back into Nayeon behind her before settling back down, thighs shaking.

“Shit,” Momo finally gasps out after a few seconds of hard breathing. She lets her body slide down the bed as Nayeon removes herself from behind her. They both lay down for a minute, staring up at the darkness in the room, the ceiling illuminated every now and then by a passing car from outside the window.

“You have any water?” Nayeon finally asks after a while.

“No. We don’t drink water in this apartment building. Stick your tongue out the window, maybe it’ll rain.”

“Hilarious,” Nayeon retorts, “I’ll be right back.” She stands up from the bed, lazily putting her underwear and t-shirt back on before walking to the kitchen to get herself a glass. 

She’s pouring ice-cold water from the fridge when Momo joins her, now dressed in a pajama slip, black and silky.

“I can call your Uber, if you want. I have a promo code,” Momo says as a greeting. Nayeon snorts into her glass.

“You’re kicking me out?”

Momo quirks up an eyebrow. “Now you wanna stay? You never do.”

“I guess I just thought you’d be more subtle about it, is all,” Nayeon says with a shrug.

“As long as you’re out before eight do whatever you want, Jeongyeon is coming to pick me up in the morning.”

“Right, can’t let your boss know you’re sleeping with the competition.”

Momo just deadpans a stare, “Someone that works solo and only takes half her offers is not the competition. I just like to keep my work and personal lives separate.”

Nayeon downs the rest of her water.

“Sure thing, Momo. And it’s called being _selective_ of my clients.” She gives Momo a wink as she passes her to go back to the bedroom. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Nayeon feels more than sees Momo roll her eyes at her in the kitchen. She gives her a smirk she can’t see in return.

—

Momo has to keep her head busy. It’s an imperative to always be doing something, be with someone, anyone, to make some sort of meek conversation. Because when her head clears and there’s little in her surroundings to distract her, thoughts come flooding in and it’s hard to drain out a tsunami. Especially when the tsunami is full of blood and screams and groans of pain, of knife blades, of gunshots and eyes shining with fear before they dull and become clouded with death instead.

There’s always the loop of justification, regurgitated to herself endlessly for the past four years, in front of mirrors after silent breakdowns inside locked bathrooms and as she stared at her hands to will them to stop shaking so badly, or else she’d never be able to scrub the blood off. The loop of _if it’s not me, someone else would do it_ , of _they’re bad people anyway, it’s never been anyone innocent_. But the loop runs dry and is never fully effective, it asks for bad company to settle in properly and a couple of drinks to numb it as well. And so Momo avoids needing it at all and focuses on keeping herself busy and overwhelmed, her head bouncing with enough things that the discomfort and horror don’t have the time to peek through and drag her down.

Her life, she decides, is a collection of distractions she bounces between, with voids of jobs and gore in the middle that she does her best to forget once they’re done. The only evidence they ever happened is the cash stowed under a floorboard in her bedroom and the practiced manner she’s acquired for washing her hands clean. No trace left.

It’s on this Saturday night that Momo is on her way to one of her distractions. She walks through the back entrance of the club, slithering through masses of drunk and sweaty bodies before she finds the little hidden door and climbs the stairs to the office. Jeongyeon greets her, splayed out on a leather couch as she goes over some document with a pen between her teeth. Friends are always a good way to clear out your mind.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon says without looking up from her paper. “This is Chaeyoung.”

Momo notices someone else in the room, a girl with jet-black hair like her own sitting in a corner of the office, tapping away on her phone’s screen before looking up and giving Momo a small smile.

“Hello,” Momo says tentatively, “you new?”

“She was passing some stuff around for us last year at her campus. She’s a college student,” Jeongyeon explains as she gets up, leaving whatever document she was going over on her desk. “She’s stopping, though. She’s studying something computer-y so I’m hiring her to manage our numbers online, we’re going digital.”

“I thought you liked paper better? Easier to burn proof?”

“Not for the _other_ stuff, Momo. The real business, the club.”

Besides the empire of shady stuff Jeongyeon manages, Momo included, the club is the one thing that keeps them out of trouble, an extra source of income for when business outside is unstable, and a good fake explanation for the rest of the money they earn in other, less honest ways.

“Oh. Right,” Momo drops herself on the couch Jeongyeon just abandoned. “It’s good that you’re getting out of it,” she says to Chaeyoung, “Dealing, I mean. Better to have something legit. And legal.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.” A beat. “I know what you do, though.” 

Momo manages to answer calmly despite her internal wince.

“Gotta pay the bills somehow. Not good with computers like you.”

Chaeyoung looks almost embarrassed and a little blush creeps up on her cheeks. Momo is about to tell her it doesn’t matter when the office door opens again and Sana walks in, wearing a long robe with slippers on, her hair up in a messy ponytail despite her elaborate glittery makeup.

“Momo, hey! I haven’t seen you since like—”

“Last week? When I walked in on you and Jeongyeon in that same desk you’re sitting on?”

Jeongyeon makes a small choking sound from her chair before throwing a wadded up piece of paper at Momo.

“We agreed we’d never talk about it again,” she says through the deep blush she’s sporting. Sana giggles instead. “Chaeyoung, this is Sana.”

“Hey,” Chaeyoung says, looking a little flustered at what she just witnessed. 

“I dance downstairs,” Sana says as she points to her face of makeup, “but I manage the numbers for Jeongyeon too. She kinda sucks at the whole adding-and-subtracting thing,” she says in a fake whisper with a wink.

“Not all of us were in school for a bachelor’s in math, thank you very much,” Jeongyeon replies without bite, poking her girlfriend in the ribs. “Your shift is done?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Tzuyu she has like…forty minutes left? I’m driving her home after.”

“Tzuyu is here?” Momo asks, suddenly interested.

Sana gives her a weird look before replying. “Yeah, she was looking for you earlier. Says she needs to ask you some things?” 

“I need to talk to her. She’s got this idea that she wants me to train her or something… she wants to work in the same uh, _field_ as me.” 

Jeongyeon’s head shoots up at Momo’s words.

“What? Why?”

“Money? I don’t fucking know. She definitely has no idea what she’s getting into, though.”

“You gonna talk her out of it?” Jeongyeon asks, and Momo knows from her look it’s more like _please talk her out of it._

“I’ll try,” is all Momo says in reply.

Jeongyeon hums, and Momo knows that if Chaeyoung and Sana weren’t here that conversation wouldn’t be over so soon. Sana notices the tension from the silent conversation going on between Jeongyeon’s and Momo’s stares, and breaks the silence as she directs herself to Chaeyoung.

“How old are you? You look around Tzuyu’s age, I could introduce you, if you want.”

Chaeyoung looks a little shocked at the change of subject. “Nineteen?” Her tone makes it sound like a question. 

“Great, she is too! Come on, we’ll meet her in the changing rooms.” Sana steps down from the desk and grabs Chaeyoung from the chair she’s sitting in to drag her unceremoniously from the room. “Bye, babe! I’ll see you at home,” she says as they go through the door, and then the office door falls closed and it’s only Jeongyeon and Momo.

“What’d Tzuyu say to you?” Jeongyeon starts.

“Nothing, I guess she doesn’t want to dance anymore, she asked me to teach her, I told her I’d think about it.”

“Are you? Thinking about it?”

“I just…” Momo sighs, “I don’t think it’s a nice job or anything and I think there’s a thousand more options she should explore before becoming a fucking _hitman_ , but I’m not really here to tell her what to do with her life. And I know her, if I say no she’ll just find another way.”

“Just tell me what she decides. And make sure she knows it’s not her only option, she could work at the bar downstairs with Dahyun or something.”

“Will do, boss.” Momo’s tone is dry. 

Jeongyeon stands up from her chair to sit down next to Momo in the sofa, lays down to rest her head on Momo’s lap.

“You okay?” Momo asks, surprised at Jeongyeon’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Yeah. Just tired. It’s been a long day, I miss my best friend.” 

Momo feels something like warmth spread through her chest, gives Jeongyeon a small smile. “Miss you too. Come over sometime, we can marathon something on Netflix. Tell Sana to come, too.”

“You don’t mind third wheeling now?” Jeongyeon smirks from Momo’s lap, “or is it that you’ve met someone?”

“I’ve never minded third wheeling, may I remind you that I’m the one that introduced you two?”

“And we are eternally grateful,” Jeongyeon says in a playful tone, lifting her head from Momo’s lap to look at her directly. “But, seriously, we can introduce you to one of Sana’s friends if you want.”

Momo just gives her a half smile as she stands up from the couch. “Nah, I’m fine.” She fidgets with Jeongyeon’s pens sitting on the desk before she speaks again, “By the way, I did that Chulsoo guy. Left him the message and everything.”

“I know, made it to the news. Messy.” Jeongyeon says with a pointed look.

“Sorry,” Momo doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic, “I didn’t think it through very well. But I got it done, so.” 

“I’ll get you your cut by the end of the week. The police are gonna crack open their heads with it, though.”

Momo shrugs, “Let them.”

—

Mina’s head feels like it’s about to crack open. It’s only eight in the morning, but she’s already been awake for four hours, and between the mess of a crime scene and the insufferable officers in it, the watery cup of coffee she had two hours ago is nowhere near enough.

“It was probably a rival gang or something, it’s not like the guy was very liked or anything,” one of the policemen repeats for what seems like the eight time.

Mina had arrived at the abandoned building at four thirty in a blaring cop car after being woken up by a call from the station. The body of Jung Chulsoo had been found inside his hideout apartment, throat cut and two and a half liters of blood pooled underneath him. 

“I mean, it’s not too bad, boss.” Officer Kim starts, “We’d been trying to get him for a while. Guess his enemies got him quicker.”

Mina would usually be nicer, but the exhaustion and frustration give her voice a touch of venom as she directs herself to the short cop next to her.

“ _No_ , we’d been trying to get his whole _organization_ , not just him. Now we’re back to square one, it’s not like we can follow a dead guy for leads.” Mina sighs, “Weren’t two people assigned to tag him at all times? Where the hell were you that no one noticed someone going into an abandoned apartment building at one in the morning?”

Officer Kim stutters. “Well— I mean, yes, it was me and my partner. But we got an emergency call for a shooting a few blocks down. So we had to leave right then.”

Mina taps her foot on the floor for a few seconds.

“Yeah? What happened at the shooting? Any casualties?”

“Oh, no. It was a false alarm. No injuries or anything.”

Mina’s eye almost twitches. “Jesus Christ. False alarm? Do you hear yourself? Whoever did this tried to get you to leave so you’d be gone when they went in.”

“Well, I guess so, but we didn’t know then. They called us from the station.”

“Yeah, I know.” Another sigh drops from Mina’s lips. “Whatever, you guys go home. Forensics is almost done anyway.”

Officer Kim and his partner just nod, going back down the stairs to the first floor. 

Mina tries to not feel too discouraged at her work of two months being undone. Her first assignment as a detective was to undo the web of crime Jung Chulsoo’s organization had created, and while she had gotten valuable intel through tracking his movements, she is nowhere near close the core of the whole thing. She still needs to find the right wire to cut that would destroy the whole circuit. She can only hope that the death of the leader puts to rest their movements for a while.

She looks around the haphazard living room once more, the forensic team in their white suits photographing every inch of the place, the body in a black bag in a corner, ready to be taken to the morgue. Mina’s headache intensifies, she brings a hand to her temple as she tries to massage the pain away.

Mina remembers with disappointment that she has somewhere to be tonight. She should probably try to get some sleep before then. With a dismissive wave she tells one of the white-suited women to have the files on her desk by tomorrow, and Mina takes her leave, back home to her bed and hopefully a better cup of coffee.

—

Momo’s moans reverberate out across the room one last time. She looks down to Nayeon between her legs, grinning as she lifts herself up and unabashedly puts her own fingers in her mouth and sucks. Just that sight is enough to make Momo want to go again, but her exhaustion wins over and she just exhales as she lets her head fall back on the pillow underneath.

“Was that good?” Nayeon asks settling down beside her, laying on her side as she leans her head on her hand to look at Momo.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You sounded stressed when you called. Glad to help.”

“Hm, I guess.” Momo turns to her side as well to look Nayeon in the eyes, “you’re good at distracting me for a while.”

Nayeon gives Momo a look she can’t decipher, and moves up to sit against the bed’s headboard.

“What happened? Jeongyeon got on your ass over something?”

Momo reels back a little at the question, it’s not like Nayeon often inquires into her life.

“You talk about Jeongyeon like she’s some sort of evil boss, you do know we started the whole thing together, right? We’re more like business partners.”

Jeongyeon and Momo had met almost ten years ago, two kids with not-so-nice family stories and little to get on by without ending up in the street. But Jeongyeon was sharp and quick-witted, and Momo was already learning her ways with a knife, so they’d stuck together more as a survival strategy than anything else. Their friendship developed slowly but steadily after that, until eventually they made a name for themselves becoming the bosses they had once worked for.

“Whatever you are, Jeongyeon is the name everyone knows. People are kinda scared of her, you know?”

“Rightfully so, I’d say. But no, it’s not her. I just have to go talk someone out of something. I’ve kind of been putting it off.”

“So specific.” There’s a hint of teasing in Nayeon’s voice.

“Shut up.” Momo looks at Nayeon and sighs defeatedly, “It’s this girl, Tzuyu, she dances at the club. Wants me to teach her how to do what we do.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“It’s not a nice job, you know that. I got into it not because I wanted to. I have a feeling she thinks this is some kind of movie.”

“Hm,” is all Nayeon says. “Is she at the club right now? Want me to drive you?”

Nayeon’s offer is unexpected but Momo says yes anyway. She figures if there’s anyone that understands it’s Nayeon herself. The thought gives her a weird sense of comfort.

Momo tries to think over what she wants to say to Tzuyu on the drive to the club, but her mind is blank, except for fragments of phrases that sound too cliché to even consider saying. She’s going to have to improvise the conversation.

Nayeon pulls up against the curb of the club, empty and closed since it is still daytime. Momo is about to thank her and leave the car before she thinks twice about it.

“Why have you never asked to work with us?” She asks Nayeon suddenly. “I mean, you’ve known I worked with Jeongyeon ever since we met. You’d make a lot more money, get more clients. More people know Jeongyeon.”

Nayeon gives no indication of being surprised by the question.

“Guess I’ve never been interested. I prefer to work solo. That’s how I was taught.”

“Right.” Momo unbuckles her seatbelt. “Well, if you ever reconsider, I’m sure Jeongyeon would say yes. If you want,” she says with a shrug.

“Hirai Momo, are you actually being nice to me?” Nayeon says with exaggerated surprise, mockingly placing her hand over her chest.

Momo gives her an eye roll. “No, I’m just saying. Plus, the club is cool and we get free drinks.”

“I know the club is cool. I’ve been here before. Got myself a lap dance and everything,” Nayeon gives Momo a wink jokingly, accompanies it with a grin.

“You’re insufferable,” Momo says, but still laughs. “Well, whatever. Think about it. If you want.”

Nayeon is silent for a moment. “Okay. I will.” She unlocks the car, “Good luck, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Momo nods and opens the door to leave the car. “For the ride, and stuff.” 

“Sure.”

Momo stands on the sidewalk as Nayeon drives off, shakes off the weird feeling of something like friendship they seem to have now. She makes her way into the club, notices that it looks surprisingly bright and clean when it’s empty and daytime.

Sana is sitting by the bar with a girl with bleach-blonde hair, both laughing at something on Sana’s phone that is apparently hilarious.

“Hey, Dahyun. Sana,” Momo greets.

“Oh, hey. You looking for Jeongyeon?” Sana asks, pausing the screen.

“No, Tzuyu, actually.” Sana gives her a knowing look.

“She’s in the changing rooms in the back. She has a shift tonight.”

Momo mutters a _thanks_ , and from the way Sana looks at her, she knows she’s dreading the conversation as much as she is. Momo finds Tzuyu putting her things inside a locker, and thanks the universe for the empty changing room so they can talk.

“Hey,” Momo says, sitting down on a bench.

“Oh, hi. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know, I uh, thought about what you asked.”

Tzuyu narrows her eyes, not happy with Momo’s tone. She sits next to her cautiously.

“And?”

“I won’t do it.” Momo powers through Tzuyu’s look of disappointment, “you don’t know what you’re talking about, honestly. And I talked to Jeongyeon, if what you want is to stop dancing, she can hire you to work the bar with Dahyun or something.”

“I don’t want to work the fucking bar, I want to do what you do. I can handle it.”

“The fact that you’re saying you _want to_ shows me you have no idea what you mean.” Tzuyu’s scowl is highlighted by the thin line her lips have turned into. “Listen, I got into this since I was very little. My parents— I know you don’t know this, but my parents did the same thing. I come from a pretty fucked up family, okay? And I’m not telling you this because I want pity or anything just— they gave me my first knife when I was twelve. I knew how to shoot at fifteen. So like… this isn’t something I just decided to do one day. I just kept at it because it’s what I know and I had to figure out a way to stay alive.”

Momo remembers her parents’ weird working hours, and the practices they squeezed in the middle. She remembers once finding a stash of weapons in a secret drawer of the house, remembers accidentally seeing a long bandaged-up gash running up her mother’s leg once. She remembers the note she’d gotten from their employer the night they’d been assigned a hit together. Something about them being outnumbered, or outgunned. Momo couldn’t remember the details, all she had held onto was the last line. _Both dead._ Apparently people who hired assassins had little tact when notifying children of their parents’ deaths. Who knew. 

Tzuyu is silent for a moment. “Well, that’s what I want. Find a way to stay alive. And it’s good money.”

Momo just looks at her one last time, shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

Tzuyu stands up, and Momo can tell she’s fuming.

“God, did Jeongyeon tell you to tell me this? I know you don’t care either way.”

“I would never do something just because Jeongyeon tells me, first of all. How the fuck are you mad because we _care_ about you?”

Momo leaves the bench too, and starts to walk out of the changing room.

“You’ll find something, I promise. I can help, even. Just not this.”

Tzuyu just turns around and goes back to her locker. “Screw you. I’ll find my own way.”

Momo closes the door behind her loudly before leaning back against it with a sigh. That went about as well as she had hoped.

Sana’s look is expectant when she walks back across the club to the bar. 

“So?” 

Momo shrugs, “She didn’t take it well.”

Sana gives her a consoling glance, “I’ll talk to her later. She’ll get it.”

Momo just gives her a small smile and takes a seat in the bar next to Dahyun, elbows her playfully.

“So? What’s up with you?”

“Not much. Still a bartender and other things,” Dahyun winks.

That pulls a smile out of Momo. “And Chaeyoung? She settling in properly?”

This time Sana answers. “Yeah, she’s getting along fine. Jeongyeon says she works fast.”

“Hm. That’s good.” 

The three of them are silent for a minute, it seems like Momo dragged the weird tension from her conversation with Tzuyu all the way across the club. There’s still something that feels like worry inside Momo.

“Well,” Momo starts after a moment, “I’m gonna go. I’ll drop by tonight.”

“We’ll wait for you!” Dahyun says as Momo crosses the door. Momo smiles to herself. She knows they will.

—

Momo had met Nayeon on a hit. The man she was supposed to get was not very liked, clearly. Both his son and his ex-wife had paid good money, each to different people, to make sure he never bothered them again. The lack of coordination between the two relatives had landed Momo and Nayeon at the same place, at the same time, each with their own handgun and a fake identity to make their way into his hotel room. Momo had let Nayeon do the honors once they realized the problem. They both had ended up with their cut at the end, though.

There’s a type of unreproducible bond that forms once you meet someone else in Momo’s line of work. It’s usually a lonely and isolated job, and when Momo found someone who got it, she supposes they clung to each other like some sort of life raft. They were each other’s indication that they weren’t completely alone. That’s how Momo found out about the Black Boot, Nayeon’s favorite bar. And at some point after meeting there twice and sharing the most vague of conversations, Momo had ended up in Nayeon’s apartment, seeking the warmth of another mouth, the comfort of another body.

It’s been a year since then.

It’s been a year, but once again, Momo is walking out of Nayeon’s apartment, boots still untied as she closes the door behind her. It’s at this moment when Momo questions what it is she’s supposed to call whatever it is they have going on. It’s definitely nothing more than a friendship, though. It might even be a stretch to call it that, she thinks, considering how little talking they do and how little Momo can say she knows about Nayeon. It’s more like a mutual agreement that bodies need other bodies every now and then, and it’s better to be in the company of one that knows what you do and understands it as well as Nayeon does.

Momo goes down the elevator as she finishes up her shoelaces, and turns on the GPS in her phone to walk the five blocks to the club. It’s already past one and on a weekend, the place is bound to be packed. Even better, she won’t look out of place wasted among the customers.

Momo hears the music blaring from the place before she sees it. Something techno and loud, and once she turns the corner, the long line of people trying to get into the club greets her. She bypasses everyone else as soon as the bouncer recognizes her. She crosses the red rope to the confusion of the customers in the line, and makes her way to the bar where she plops herself down on a stool.

Dahyun is serving someone else right now, so Momo looks around the place for a bit. The darkened dance floor is full of intoxicated bodies and the corner booths are filled with couples with searching hands, wrapped around each other, as if they were alone. In each end of the locale, the stages, where she recognizes Sana and Tzuyu and a couple other girls wrapped around poles.

She turns back around in her stool, looking for Dahyun again across the large bar. Another girl has just sat down, not wearing what looks to be club attire, but rather straight black pants and a white shirt, covered by a khaki coat, like she just left the office. Definitely out of place.

“The regular?” Momo hears Dahyun ask the new customer. The girl just nods.

Momo watches as Dahyun mixes what seems to be a martini and places it in front of the girl. Momo’s look of confusion must be evident, because Dahyun walks up to her and asks, “Weird, huh?”

“Who is that? She comes here often?”

Dahyun gives her a grin. “Yeah, almost every night for the past month. She always orders the same thing but never takes more than two sips. I always end up having to throw it out.”

“And what’s up with the office clothes?”

Dahyun leans in towards Momo, lowers her voice so no one else can hear it, “I told Jeongyeon after like a week, she stays here for hours but just sits at the bar and leaves at like three. Sana did some searching, she’s a cop. A detective, I think.”

Momo raises her eyebrows, Dahyun nods as she understands her surprise.

“I don’t think she has anything solid, or else the department would start an official investigation. It seems it’s like she has an inkling the place is a little shady but is waiting for proof.”

Momo leans forward herself, whispering too, “She’ll never get shit, though. Jeongyeon is too careful. And the club is completely legit.”

Dahyun goes back to her position as another customer calls her down. “Of course. There’s nothing to see here.” She walks off with a conspiratorial wink.

Momo turns around in her stool to look at the cop. She looks young, probably around her own age. Her hair is brown and falls to her shoulders, a haircut that matches the plainness of the rest of her outfit. If she is trying to be undercover, she’s definitely failing. Momo doesn’t think anyone else stands out more than her, dressed like that in such a scandalous club.

Momo decides she’s bored, and not seeing anyone else she knows around, moves stools to sit right next to the detective. Pokes her in the shoulder to get her attention.

“Hey,” the girl turns around with a confused look on her face, she was frowning into her martini a few seconds ago. “You come here often?” Momo holds back laughter hearing herself utter such a cliché line.

“Just sometimes,” the girl says, her tone clearly indicating suspicion.

Momo feels bold and grabs the girl’s stool, turns them both around so they have their back to the bar and the rest of the club ahead of them. She ignores the other’s look of surprise.

“It’s a nice place,” Momo says, “it’s packed every weekend.”

“Yeah, I know.” The girl looks around the place, and Momo notices her cheeks tint when her gaze reaches the dancers, the masses by the stages slipping bills into fabric and hems.

“You like the dancers?” Momo asks, grinning.

The blush is evident now. “No.” 

“They’re pretty. And good at what they do. People love them.”

“Hm,” The girl’s lips form a straight line, almost in disapproval.

“What? You think it’s not a very decent job?”

The girl turns to face Momo immediately, her eyebrows raised in offense, “I never said that.”

Momo just smirks, “Just checking. I used to be a dancer here, you know. I know the owner.”

Now that she’s looking at her directly, Momo notices a mole above the girl’s lips and one on her nose. _Cute_ , she thinks. Even cuter when they get tinted by a blush at Momo’s words.

“Oh, okay.” Mole-girl pauses as she looks Momo over, “What do you do now?”

“Other stuff. Better pay.”

Mole-girl nods, doesn’t ask for more explanation as she goes back to looking around the club, an attempt to stop making eye contact with Momo, probably.

“Sorry, but, who are you?” She asks after a long silence.

“I’m Momo,” she gives her a sultry smile, “What’s your name?”

“Mina,” The girl responds, she seems to have thought about it twice before deciding to answer.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mina. You just stood out to me in the bar, is all.”

“Oh, right.” Mina doesn’t say much after that. Momo wonders for a second how this girl is a cop, if she turns into a blushing mess when all Momo did was introduce herself and smile at her twice. 

Momo is considering flirting with her more, maybe getting her to leave together, try to figure out what it is that she knows about the club, why she’s been coming here every night for so long, when she hears a commotion happening near the doorway. She hears shouts of, “Ma’am, you can’t pass yet, you have to do the line,” when a girl storms in, followed by one of the bouncers and a frazzled-looking Dahyun.

They’re far from the bar and the music is blaring, but Momo can faintly hear their conversation. Mina tenses beside her, and Momo knows she can too.

“If you wait in line and pay the fee you can come in, but not like this,” Dahyun is trying to explain as the bouncer holds on to the girl’s arm, keeping her from moving further into the club.

“I’m not here to party,” the stranger says, clearly altered, “I need to speak to the owner of the place. It’s important.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m serious. This is about Jung Chulsoo. Ring a bell?”

Dahyun’s eyes widen, large as saucers, in surprise, and Momo feels her chest tighten at the name. The memories of the bloody living room come back, for some reason the choking sounds stand out the most of all. To her dismay, though, Mina straightens her back at the name as well. It’s clear to Momo she recognizes the name because Mina stands up, walking towards Dahyun and the stranger, all indications of timidness gone when her strut becomes powerful and authoritative. So _this_ is how she’s a cop, Momo thinks.

Momo follows Mina to the gathering near the door, looking around in hopes of not having attracted the attention of too many customers. They don’t seem to be minding much, though, all enveloped in the music and booze.

Dahyun locks eyes with her immediately, and all Momo says is, “take her to Jeongyeon, I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“Come with me,” Dahyun says, waving off the bouncer so he lets go of the stranger and leading her to the back, towards the door that leads to the office.

Mina almost follows when Momo grabs her by the arm to hold her back.

“Where are you going?”

“Let _go_ of me,” Mina says, removing her arm from Momo’s grasp with surprising force. “I’m the police,” she reaches for her badge inside her jacket, “and this pertains to my investigation, so if you’ll excuse me.” 

Mina turns back around to try and find Dahyun in the crowd. She starts walking, leaving Momo behind as she gathers herself after the shock of knowing that this cop, or detective, or _whatever the fuck_ , knows about Chulsoo, knows that he was murdered, and knows something about the club is connected to that. She knows a lot more than Momo hoped.

By the time Momo focuses again, though, Mina has lost herself in the crowd, and Momo struggles to find her and catch up to her, squeezing herself against the masses in the dance floors as she makes her way to the door that leads to Jeongyeon’s office.

When she gets there, the door is closing, and Mina’s coat is far too recognizable behind it.

“Fuck,” Momo mutters to herself, running up to the door and opening it once more. Mina is going up the stairs now, right behind Dahyun and the stranger she’s escorting.

Dahyun rushes to the office door to avoid Mina, Mina rushes trying to follow them, and Momo rushes right behind in an attempt to stop Mina. For a split second Momo thinks this cat-and-mouse chase must look ridiculous to an outsider.

It’s all for naught, though, because Dahyun opens the door, pushing the stranger in, and Mina catches up right on time to barrel through as well, Momo on her tail. The door closes behind them loudly. Inside, Jeongyeon stands up from her desk in surprise at the intrusion, Chaeyoung just as confused in her own little table. Momo kind of pities her for having to see this happen on her first week working here.

“What the fuck is this?” Jeongyeon says at the crowd in her office, her eyes burning into Dahyun who walked in first.

The room erupts into noise as Dahyun tries to explain, the stranger speaking over her and Mina trying to interfere, waving her badge around and trying to push through towards Jeongyeon. Momo holds her back, though, and the commotion stops as soon as Jeongyeon shouts a loud, “Quiet!” as she slams her desktop.

Jeongyeon starts, “Dahyun, please tell me who—“ 

“Mina?” 

Jeongyeon looks to her to see who interrupted her, ready to shout once more, but it’s Chaeyoung. Quiet, new, Chaeyoung, who stands up from her desk to walk toward the detective.

Once she’s in a more illuminated spot Momo notices that Mina recognizes her too, her eyes widening as she asks, “Chaeyoung?”

“You two know each other?” Momo asks, looking between them as they don’t do much but stare.

“We— we went to school together. She was a few grades above me.” Chaeyoung stutters out, not removing her eyes from Mina.

“Went to school together? More like grew up together until she disappeared to college and stopped talking to me.” Mina spits out bitterly.

Chaeyoung blushes at the accusation, and the room fills with an uncomfortable tension that has everyone confused. It’s silent until someone else speaks up.

“Fuck, I’m not here for any teary reunions, you two can sort that shit out later.” It’s the stranger that Dahyun brought, and everyone turns to look at her now. “Are you the owner of the place?” She asks Jeongyeon.

“Who’s asking? And who are you?” Jeongyeon answers, her brows knitted in a scowl.

The silence seems to stretch on forever as the stranger considers what to say.

“My name is Jihyo, that’s all you need to know. Do you know anyone named Momo?”

It’s almost comical, the way all the stares in the room turn to her. Momo feels her stomach churn as Jihyo zeroes in on her when she notices where everyone is looking.

“Jung Chulsoo’s son. He’s trying to kill you.”

**Author's Note:**

> this should NOT have taken as long as it did to write but alas here we are.
> 
> hopefully there's no major mistakes i missed or wtvr.. let me know ur Thoughts and Inquiries :p


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